


A penny for her thoughts

by Sasassy



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Childhood Memories, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Falling In Love, Friendship, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Light Angst, Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-27
Updated: 2015-09-04
Packaged: 2018-04-17 13:03:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4667534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sasassy/pseuds/Sasassy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabble collection for Kirishima Touka Week 2015 on Tumblr, including the prompts Childhood, Family, Friendship, Love and Beauty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day One: Childhood

**Author's Note:**

> I remember trying not to angst but angsting anyway, so I'm kind of sorry about that.

Sometimes she couldn’t remember the happy times anymore.

 

She knew they existed, she knew they had been happy, even after their mother had passed and their father had to leave them to their own devices for increasingly longer stretches of time – but they had been happy enough. Touka just didn’t quite remember those times anymore.

 

It was sad, really, how the day her father had told her that Mama wasn’t coming home anymore was still as clear in her mind as it had always been, even though she had been so young back then, but her memories of her actual mother were almost completely faded. And now the same started to happen for the memories of her father.

 

There were a few things that had stuck with her, though. Her father had read to them every night before they fell asleep; fantastic stories of fantastic worlds, far beyond Touka’s imagination and she and Ayato had soaked them in – as if they could wake up in a different world the next day, if they just knew enough about it.

They would play in the park, like normal people did, and sometimes one of the kids of the neighbourhood would dare to approach them and invite them to join in with whatever games the other kids were playing. They always accepted, until Arata had told them to be more careful around strangers, especially if they were much older than they were. Touka hadn’t understood his worries back then, they were all people and just playing tag – there was no harm in it, was there?

 

She soon understood – as their father hadn’t come home one night and they realised that their own neighbour, the nice lady who would cook for them sometimes, had sold them out to the Doves. She had realised that she couldn’t trust humans, then. It didn’t matter whether they were nice old ladies who needed walking aids or little children with tooth-gapped grins and runny noses.

 

 

Her childhood had been happy, sometimes at least., But the imprints her childhood had left on her, her vivid memories, weren’t.


	2. Day Two: Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I've said it before, but I feel like I used Touka week as an excuse to write Touka/Yomo interactions *shrugs*

It always happened at night.

 

When it was dark inside and out, the city quieter than during the bustle of day and the noises in her house hushed, it came creeping up on her.

 

Rabbits died of loneliness, didn’t they?

 

So why was she still alive and kicking?

 

Maybe it was myth after all.

 

Still, sometimes she felt almost physically sick when she thought about how everyone left her. How she always ended up alone even though she tried – she tried so hard – to keep everyone around her. Even Hinami had ultimately left her. To join Aogiri. Just like her brother had done years ago. Maybe it was her fate to lose one sibling after another to an organisation that was known for violence and violent deaths. An organisation that was known for attacks on Doves and, in consequence, for members ending locked up in a ghoul prison. That ghoul prison Touka had heard horrible rumours of.

 

Irimi and Koma had left too, albeit unforeseen and involuntarily, they still left to lay down their lives and they wouldn’t ever come back. Just as her parents had done. And Kaneki ... he was gone, missing, somewhere not even Itori and her talent for finding people could trace him at.

 

Touka rolled over in her bed and sighed. She clutched the stuffed rabbit toy Yoshimura had given to her after taking Ayato and her in closer to her chest and snuggled her nose into it. Yoshimura had put them under his wing so easily, without asking many questions. He’d given them shelter and food and guidance when they had needed it most. Touka still appreciated it, even though she was still angry at him for letting himself get killed just like that. There could have been a way for all of them to get out alive, Touka was sure of it. They should have thought harder. If they had just fled, to another city, another country even, they could still be alive and well.

 

 

Instead, she was alone and utterly lonely, more and more people slipping from her grasping hands.

 

Touka shook her head defiantly, silently berating herself for these thoughts.

 

She still had Yomo.

 

Nowadays, she often wondered what she’d done to deserve him, her silent and unwavering rock in her grief and anger. He had a knack for always being right there when she needed him most. He always knew when to talk or when to shut up. He always seemed to know exactly what stupid irresponsibility she was about to do and held her back before she could get herself in danger again.

 

He was like the big brother she never expected to have. It only felt natural to pose as his younger sister at this point, when they both fell into this dynamic oh so easily without even trying hard. It felt so natural, actually, that Touka sometimes wished it were true.

 

Sighing again, she crawled out of bed. It was no use, sleep wouldn’t find her. Careful not to make any sounds, she tiptoed to her door and pulled it open quietly. Yomo was a light sleeper, an old habit that just wouldn’t die, he’d told her one night, so she needed to be very careful not to wake him. He deserved a peaceful night.

 

”Why are you still up?”

 

Touka flinched and turned around, facing the other ghoul with an apologetic expression.

”Sorry, I didn’t want to wake you.”

 

”It’s fine,” Yomo said and rose an eyebrow in question. He didn’t need to repeat his question, Touka knew he would just stare at her until she answered.

 

”Couldn’t sleep,” she mumbled and went over to the couch, plopping down.

There was a book on the coffee table. Touka couldn’t remember reading that one. Her stomach clenched.

 

The couch dipped as Yomo sat down next to her.

”Any reason for that?” he asked, voice so quiet, it was almost inaudible. He was staring at the book now, too, unblinking, unwavering. Touka’s hands shook.

 

”No reason,” she answered, just as quietly, her voice quivering a little. Her eyes burned. _Exhaustion_ , she told herself.

 

”Maybe reading would help?”

 

”Yeah.” She swallowed. ”Maybe it would.”

 

Carefully, almost reverently, she picked up _Monochrome Rainbow_ and put the unfinished words’ list tucked between the cover and first page on the coffee table. Voice hushed, she read aloud.

 

Sometimes big brothers needed comfort too.

And so, sometimes, little sisters needed to read for their big brothers.


	3. Day Three: Friendship

It occurred to her just when she was ordering supplies for :re, almost dropping the phone at the shock.

 

She could barely remember Yoriko’s voice any more.

 

The guy on the other end didn’t stop talking, apparently oblivious of her shell-shocked state, so she pulled herself together. Just long enough to end the call without any more mishaps. As soon as she had hung up though, she had to sit down and her hands went automatically up to her eyes, rubbing them tiredly.

 

”Why now?” she whispered to herself, determined to not let anyone know of her weak moment. The fact that she was alone in the backroom of :re and Yomo was at the front serving their customers didn’t matter. Maybe she just wanted to hide her own weakness from herself.

 

”Touka, can you bring more coffee beans when you’re done?”

Yomo’s voice was muffled through the half closed door as he called to her but it was enough to snap her from her stupor.

 

”Sure!” she called back and rubbed her eyes one more time, wondering when she had gotten water on her fingers.

 

 

##

 

 

It wasn’t hard to get her hands on an old-school phone book.

She hadn’t known they were still being produced but still, it hadn’t taken long to get one shipped to her apartment. Honestly, she could have just done a simple search on the internet, but since the Anteiku Raid she was too paranoid – too afraid of people watching her, tracking her, just waiting for her to give away her allies.

 

Touka wouldn’t take the risk, no, she would never endanger the most innocent person she had ever known, just because Touka missed her.

 

Finding the number was easy. Calling, however, wasn’t.

 

Touka didn’t even know if Yoriko still lived with her parents, she just assumed that she would and it was the only number she could find. There weren’t any Kosaka Yoriko’s in Tokyo, so Touka had to go for her father’s name and hope for the best. She had destroyed her phone, containing her once best friend’s number, the day after the Raid, too terrified of accidentally dragging Yoriko into her living hell, should the CCG track Touka down and search her belongings. She could have dealt with the CCG finding her and maybe killing her. But she wouldn’t have been able to live with herself if Yoriko had been put on their radar, just because Touka had her phone number.

Cutting all ties was necessary, Yomo and even Nishiki had reminded her countless times, and so she had. She had never looked back ever since. At least not outwardly. In her mind, however, she had constantly thought of what Yoriko was doing, how she was doing at school, if she had come up with another dish that was delicious yet inedible for Touka. If Yoriko missed her as much as Touka missed her best friend.

 

Her fingers didn’t tremble when she dialled.

 

Her whole body shook.

 

When she heard the annoying peeping sound, a call waiting to be picked up by the recipient, Touka felt like puking. What if they had moved? What if Yoriko wasn’t at home right now? What if she wasn’t there anymore at all, moved out, into a house with a spouse, off to another city?

 

”Kosaka residence, hello?” a familiar voice said and Touka’s fingers gripped her phone so hard, she almost crushed it.

”Hello?” Yoriko repeated and Touka had to take several steadying breaths.

 

Eyes closed, she tried to make her voice sound as deep as possible, as unlike her own voice as possible, before she quickly shot out a ”Sorry, wrong number!”.

 

She heard Yoriko gasp.

”To -” but Touka ended the call before Yoriko could finish whatever she was about to say.

 

Yoriko sounded fine. She sounded fine and alive and happier than Touka could ever imagine being.

 

Touka had heard her voice.

 

She wiped at her eyes, ignoring the salty wetness on her cheeks.

 

She remembered her voice again and for now that would be enough.


	4. Day Five: Love

Touka never imagined or expected to ever love anyone other than her family.

 

She didn’t even want to, if she was being completely honest with herself. Love led to pain, it always had and it always would. There was already enough of it in her life, pain she couldn’t control and had to endure, so if she could decide to not get close to people and spare herself, she’d do it. She’d do anything to keep her heart from breaking any further.

 

Love didn’t exist without suffering, Touka knew. Loving ultimately led to grief and agony.

 

Loving her mother had, before Touka had reached the age of awareness.

She couldn’t recall loving her mother, or even her face, but the pain of losing her was still very real, a faint ache deep down on good days, but a blazing fire on others. She couldn’t remember her mother’s voice, or her eyes that were always glinting mischievously – or so her father had told her when Touka was old enough to ask about her mother – but she could remember all the tears and screaming and Ayato crying for days on end.

 

Loving her father had been even worse.

He had been her whole world, a constant source of adoration and affection, always warm and all smiles and there when she had needed him.

Until he wasn’t anymore and ripped with him a part of herself when he left them that fateful day. Touka had to act strong. She had to be brave. For Ayato, who couldn’t fully understand what had happened and why his Papa wasn’t coming home anymore.

 

Loving Ayato, though, was the worst.

She had tried her hardest to keep him safe and sound and he had just left her. Cold-blooded and cruel, he’d just walked out on her as soon as he could support himself.

 

That day, Touka had promised herself to never let anyone get close to her again.

 

Still, mere days after Ayato had abandoned her, she felt her heart warm as Yoshimura presented her with a stuffed rabbit.

She caught herself seeking the quiet presence of Yomo and stayed close to him whenever she could.

She found herself laughing heartily at a joke Yoriko had told her and kept eating her food, even though it made her vomit.

She realised the urge she kept ignoring was to hug Hinami as often as possible and that it was okay to do so. It even made her smile.

Much later, she felt her heart skip a beat as she delicately held a rabbit keychain in her hands.

 

She had never wanted to love again to spare herself the pain.

But she had allowed love back into her life and she had to admit – as she looked down at the mop of black and grey hair nestled into her neck, smiling lips pressing a soft kiss to her skin there – it was worth the pain in the end.


	5. Day Seven: Beauty

Touka had never cared much about her appearance. She thought it was no use agonising over it, since her body wasn’t something she could change much, even if she had wanted to. She was stuck being small in height and petite in stature and it didn’t bother her. It didn’t hinder her strength at all, she only profited because enemies kept underestimating her.

 

Her hair, though, was something she was really proud of. She liked the soft texture of it and the way it fell over her eye. Touka loved that she only had to wash it and it would be nice and shiny, without any effort whatsoever. She had loved watching it grow longer and longer in the last few months.

 

Now, it had to go.

 

It was obvious that she had to change her looks, deep down she knew it. Too many people had come to Anteiku on a nearly daily basis and Touka had been there all the time. Too many people knew her face. Her face, she couldn’t do anything about, apart from make-up, but her hair she could actually change.

 

Twirling one long lock between her fingers, Touka got a better grip on the scissors in her right hand and studied the picture in the magazine one more time. She had chosen a hairstyle at random rather than by preference. It didn’t matter anyway, Yomo wouldn’t let her leave their apartment, so no one would actually see her. It was just another precaution amongst dozens of others they had to take.

 

She had improved since that one time cutting Hinami’s hair. Her control over the scissors was better than back then, the stainless steel cutting her dark hair smoothly. When she had the cut down to how she wanted it, Touka took one last look at the bluish colour she loved so much. It always reminded her of her father, one of the only features she had inherited from him apart from her eye colour.

 

Sighing, she reached for the bleach and applied it according to the packaging. If she wanted to be believable as Yomo’s sister, she needed to get closer to his hair colour. People wouldn’t get the idea to ask any questions, then.

 

When she was done and had washed the bleach out of her hair, she felt a bitter pang of loss in her stomach. She really didn’t look like Kirishima Touka anymore. Now, she was a Yomo, even though her hair still had a slight lilac-y tinge to it. Weirdly enough, if she tilted her head just a little to the right, she could almost see some resemblance to Yomo.

 

”Must have been some magic dye,” she mumbled as she towelled her wet locks.

 

”Do you need help in there?” came Yomo’s muffled voice from beyond the bathroom door.

 

”No, it’s fine. I’m already done,” she called back and ran her fingers through her damp hair. She quickly blow-dried it so she could finally see the end result. She’d get used to it, it wasn’t as bad as she had expected it to turn out. Still, she would miss her natural hair colour.

 

Sighing, Touka stepped through the door into the living area to present the result to Yomo. He gazed up from the magazine he was reading and froze.

 

”Is it that bad?” she asked, suddenly unsure of her new look and touched her hair self-consciously.

 

”You look beautiful,” he murmured and Touka’s eyes widened.

 

”What?” she choked out, uncertain whether she had heard him correctly or not. He had mumbled it really quietly.

 

”I said it’s nice,” he managed to say, his voice giving nothing away. He acted as if his prior comment didn’t even exist, like he had never called her beautiful at all. ”You look a lot like your mother with your hair like this.”

 

”My mother?” Touka asked and her fingers went to curl a strand around them. ”You knew my mother?”

He had never told her, but if he knew what she had looked like, he must have known her since there weren’t any pictures of her left.

 

”Yes, I did,” was all he said before he took a closer look at her new style. ”You really resemble her. Her hair was almost that exact shade.”

 

”Really?” she breathed. ”I actually thought I almost resembled you now.”

 

The corners of Yomo’s mouth twitched, a sad little smile that made him seem much older than he actually was.

”How about that,” he mumbled and patted the crown of her head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a gigantic soft spot for Uncle Yomo and it shows.
> 
> And with that my Touka week contribution is concluded. I hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
